


Twitterpated Alternate Ending

by Dodo



Series: Twitterpated [2]
Category: Coming Out On Top (Visual Novel)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gore, M/M, Medical, The 2016 Orlando Shooting, Vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 17:06:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15272223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dodo/pseuds/Dodo
Summary: an additional ending to twitterpated, featuring more medical stuff and trauma.





	Twitterpated Alternate Ending

**Author's Note:**

> The alternate ending that I wrote since this fanfic was written right around the time of the 2016 pulse shooting and it really impacted me as it was essentially in my backyard, even if I never went to that club. This does have some graphic gore, barf, and medical stuff littered in this text.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm not looking for commentary here, I felt that this ending was more 'ending' than the other even though I definitely waffled for a while on even posting this and subsequently the original fic as well.

He’s still on call for strictly emergency only for the main branch hospital, like airlift and special cases. The like of massive traumas and massacres actually happening? Far from Hartmuts mind, the current hopital the one close to Orlin finally gets accreditation to become a trauma level one. Mistakenly brushing it off as more drunk drivers or something, it becomes apparent though that the city needed a hospital like this once the accreditation passes they get gang, gun, and a myriad of other traumas into the emergency room.

Hartmut is mostly unaffected by this as he’s situated in the icey hell of the OR. Occasionally though they get a stable needs fixing stat patient from the e.r. So he gets to see it just not in the volume and without as much threat. TV reports that there was a gang fight inside the e.r. At one point and he gets worried texts from Alex over it while he’s elbows deep in a neck. Blissfully unaware of anything going on beyond his room.

He of courses texts right back between cases, to assuage any doubts. Maybe let him know that a patient had a doubled left carotid something odd, nothing personal. Just a scientific oddity that happens in life. Or a comment on how resident x is doing really well and should be able to finish up his cases.

They fit real well, maybe even better than before. Now Alex actually lets Hartmut in on the research no gentle reminder that it may be above his understanding. Granted some of it still is because it is applied in a different way, Hartmut does his best to pick out all the grammatical errors, which at one point Alex had called him something unpleasant in jest but he didn’t appreciate being likened to that particular movement.

As for work, it worked out well the move had him much closer. He no longer regretted his impulse buy car as it was far more enjoyable to drive shorter trips. It sucked to drive in the rain though, and usually had to wear a slicker while in his car in the rain. Actually Alex would usually drive him if it was predicted to be stormy. His sexy chauffer, drop him right at the door. Mostly because those parking garages were a nightmare.

He’s lucky that most of his work clothes are at work, sterility and all, just a few scrubs at home Alex could have the bigger more diverse wardrobe. More refined too, Hartmut only wore button up things for meetings, and press things, parties, he didn’t really care about buttons they were a hassle to put on right, in his defense.

There had been a massive shooting in Charlie’s, and of course his phone was vibrating like crazy, luckily he was already at work eating in the physicians’ canteen. It was mostly Alex expressing his concern for Hartmut’s safety. There was a video clip from Dr. Vogt that wasn’t loading, typical. He wondered if the man had sent him an video on accident.

“Hey, Alex I’m fine. I may not be leaving anytime soon though.”  
The pa system interrupted as they paged Dr nguyen. Hartmut held a breath for Alex’s soft reply,  
“I understand, text me when you can.”

Jarred by an emt rushing past him he closed his phone and headed up to the icebox of the or hopefully he could make there before his patient did. Gathering his nerves and focusing his breathing as he made it to the room to scrub in and suit up. The head nurse was repeating what they knew of the patient that was incoming, shot in the face. There were actually several head face injuries coming in. He would be rotating between them, luckily he had two seasoned residents working alongside his person. His charge nurse was in contact with the emergency room learning as much as she can on the patients so the teams could tackle them in priority of damages as well as save them in a timely manner. 

There was plenty of enough work to keep his mind on topic, focused hands doing something it was like his attention probably faded away. Time out happened the name was read and the injuries listed and then followed up with a statement that john doe liked flowers which was based on the flower tattoo on the chest, it was a nice touch it gave everyone some sense that it was a person on the table. The C arm came in as they took the first few shots to visualize the data along the CT images. They would get this john doe back to his flower tending once they removed the shrapnel from his maxillary sinus, and peaced the bone back together.

The other in bay four was missing most of the face, that one would be a long, in the series of work. He extracted the bits of lead and took a step back for the C arm to come back, two pictures later no more bits of lead in Amos’ face. He motioned for his resident to come forward the one that was close to graduating.

“You ready for this?”  
Red slicked hand gestured to the patient a terse nod and he let his student take over. He watched for a while and satisfied the other was performing exemplary he moved out of visual range entirely. He moved to the back and removed the first layer of protection as he entered the inside supply area to the suites. 

Charge nurse giving him the info of the next patient as he pulled scrubs back on, new patient new problems, the O.R. was bustling it was rare for all the rooms to be used. This was room one the smallest of the rooms, he entered greeted by Dr Nguyen. There was staff crammed in, x-ray had the foresight to bring their mini C-arm so at least the room wasn’t too unnessercery packed. 

The monitors beeped and Hartmut entered aware of the blood all over the place, this would probably be the most complicated patient so far. With just the presence of Dr nguyen, as he was a cardiovascular surgeon. He peaked over at the neck or rather what could have been a neck. Staff looked ready if a bit weary, he had heard that room nine had lost their patient.

“Alright let's get this done.”  
He muttered to his colleague as they started the surgery to remove and fix up the very sensitive area of the neck. CT images showing a fracture in the c3-4 region of the lamina, which might be impinging on the spinal cord. They had already called for Dr Brimson to come in after she was done with her other patients.

The shift passed in a blur of red and blue colors with great fatigue, frantically running back and forth between patients that were his and his residents but also aiding others when called. when asked sometimes it was easier to have a doctor help a doctor than a resident or surgical tech. 

He was on break now and was called down to the emergency room. Not bothering to change his underscrubs which were sporting bits of gore. He matched most of the emergency staff though. He was pointed to the trauma bay where he met a familiar face.

“Dr Vogt?”  
The man was scowling his head was bandaged along with his torso and right arm which was curious. Synk was sitting near by sleeping it looked like.  
“The one night I go to a gay bar.”  
Hartmut was happy to see that his dear friend was okay, he looked around for the prosthetic.  
“Where is your hand?”  
“Evidence.”

The other still looked pretty sour about it, ah maybe that guy up in the or without a face was the attacker. He sat on one of the bins in the bay and kept his friend company for the last bit of his break. Fiddling with his phone since Alex did not answer his phone, or rather his phone wasn’t able to connect. Shrugging Hartmut made his way back up, he was due to relive someone else and most likely there was still a line of people that needed to be seen if the ER was anything to go by.

Dr. Brimson intercepted him, hair fly aways from her tight bun giving her a golden halo appearance. She smiled and waved her entire arm.  
“Dr Faulkner, you got a visitor.”  
His heart jumped as he saw Alex behind her, he moved towards the other. Suddenly hesitant, offering his hand for a shake. Instead of a hug because he just wasn’t sure, he was out but? He started to fidget and Alex pulled the arm in for a hug. Shutting up Hartmut’s desire to dig a verbal hole. The hug was brief and he said his farewell to Alex as he entered into the locker room to get cleaned up for another shift.

At the end of the day or rather his double shift Hartmut was tired, and ready to find a dark spot to die, or sleep either or sounded good to him. Maybe he ought see Dr Vogt. If he was still at the hospital, he was not expecting to see Alex waiting for him in the communal waiting room. The last patient of the day had been mr no face, and it was clear he was the person of interest based on the cops stationed around the o.r. junctions and entrances.

Another embrace and a sweet kiss, Hartmut felt a bit better but there was no way of really hiding the fatigue from the days events.  
“I’d like to visit my friend if he’s still here.”  
There was a nod from Alex and together they hunted down Dr Vogt, the man was given a room. The bed was piled with blankets and the room was actually warm for once. However they could only look in as the nurse insisted that they not wake ‘that man’.

“He finally went to bed,” The male nurse added as he moved to fill out another chart on another patient. His mentor liked to be in control and thus made him a terrible patient as with most control freaks.

“Ah we should leave then, uh can you drive me back?”  
Not wanting to admit he’d forgotten where he had parked his car, but also an admission to how exhausted he was. Alex drove him back and he can’t recall exactly how he got into their shared home. 

\----------

The bed dipped Hartmut turned towards the shift, rubbing at his eyes and missing the competitive smirk. He was pinned easily by Alex looming over him. His hair was still damp from the shower he had at work. Hartmut groaned it was too early to think there was a whoosh of wind on his pec. He jolted as the other pinched his nipple holy fuck his mind finally rose to the occasion to focus on the sight of what looked to be an angry alex looming over him. The lighting was terrible He really couldn’t tell if the other was angry or not.

Alex was looking at him and there was gore, his neck opened wide the sternocleidomastoid flayed in half, beeping of monitors, he could smell iron. The flesh burning under the cauterizer pen, mild hot dog scent. His stomach protested, Alex said something but all he could see was blood gurgling from the mouth, teeth highlighted with red. He twisted reaching for the garbage can. It wasn’t alex it was that faceless man, the caved in nose opened right side of the face with a bulging left eye.

Scent of soiled clothes, burning bile in the back of his throat. The faces of family members waiting in the recover bays and in the waiting room. He vomited missing part of the can, pushing up against the bed, the faint scent of the surgical betadine. He gasped for air between heaves and vomited again this time in the can and not on his hand.

Alex was next to him with a towel wiping the vomit off his face and hands. Looking concerned probably trying to diagnose this as something. Heh it was all physcological, he was probably dreaming about it and when he woke it just transferred over. Though there was a sliver of fear that someone would do that to a bunch of strangers based on sexuality alone.

He reached forward with the cleaner hand to trace Alex’s neck. Tracing that muscle while closing his eyes it was there intact under the skin, he could feel the other swallow. The cartilage bobbing he brushed his thumb over it, running his fingers up to the pulse point strong and steady. Alex was fine, Alex was here, safe.

Hand came to rest on the collar bone as Hartmut turned to the can to inspect his vomit, he knew he shouldn’t have eaten the cafeteria chili, this had been a mistake.  
“It looks the same.”

He spoke mostly to himself placing the can back on the ground, looking at the vomit patch on the floor. He’d clean that up later, his throat hurt. He wanted to get a drink but at the same time didn’t want to leave Alex. Later he’d berate himself for such a stupid fear, but right now he felt if he left he may come back to the bedroom and see suite number two with the body under a sheet.

“I need to”  
Opening his sticky vomit hand and holding it away from his nose. He felt Alex try to leave and his hand tightened its hold on the inner shoulder. His hand was removed and he was alone he heard water running and that made him even more thirsty. He could see several shapes in his vomit puddle on the ground mostly skulls and bloody tissue.

There was a glass of water pressed on to his cheek oh, yes water thats what he wanted. Finally except the hand holding it wasn’t following the directions he was giving it. He’d lost control of his own limbs? Maybe this was just a dream, like that time Alex fingered his butthole in class. That was a nice dream this one not so much, too much blood, too much loss.

“I will drink you, but arm you must work for me.”  
He spoke to the cup and the hand, it must have worked because he was able to get a good sip. At least he could talk some sense into his arm. The cup was placed on the side table, and a wet cloth once again applied to his head and hands along with some hand sanitizer. Hands weaving into his own pulling towards a warm chest that wasn’t cracked open.

The smell of iron and the visions of red faded, he leaned in pressing head head against the chest. Listening to the heart and lungs trying to will away the unwanted scents. He sighed softly letting the tears fall confused and tired.

“Sorry,”  
Muttering because he thinks he might have ruined a moment before. He didn’t want to think about it breath slowing and his ability to remain upright flagged. He tried to go back to the bed, Alex guided him down, he refused to let the other go. Nuzzling the other’s neck as he stayed in an embrace relenting his control and once more falling asleep.

It was apparent that the shooting had adversely affected Hartmut and he sought grief counseling from his work and they obliged. In fact many of the hospital staff had asked for this and there were a few large sessions of them in a group followed by more personal sessions to help everyone validate and essentially move on from the ordeal.

His own fears mostly stemmed from being shot, or Alex being shot because of their sexuality. He never really voiced this in the group sessions, even if others had. He sought closure from his mentor on this and the response had been unsatisfactory but brutally honest and true. He would never know and it was best to live in the moment and not worry about the what ifs.

It took a while to get over the shooting, which was normal and while he would normally throw himself into work as a distraction. This time he did not, instead he funneled that energy into Alex, meeting up for racquetball matches, and walks in the park. Sometimes he’d show up at the anatomy lectures. Mostly to watch, occasionally Alex would call him up for a demonstration like the upper arm, and how many positions and rotations.

That's how Alex learned he was ticklish, in one of the lectures he was sitting in on. Up at the front and pulling away breathless from the man prodding at his serratus anterior, during the shoulder girdle lecture. Which was in the advanced anatomy class he forgot the name of it as it was still anatomy. Alex had to use a laser pointer for the rest of that class, as any light touches or even firm brushes in that area set Hartmut into a fit.

It was information that Alex would use later in bed to immobilize the other, as he tended to curl up and try to protect his sides from the probing fingers. He’d take a while to uncurl as well since Alex got perverse enjoyment by tickling in intervals. He got revenge usually in the form of a washable marker applied to the face at odd intervals. Alex looking confused at his fit of laughter when he made the other look like the guy on the monopoly board.

After a few weeks of living together a routine was sort of set up. While Hartmut had reduced the amount of 3rd shifts he picked up occasionally he got them and would sleep on the couch. Alex was very attentive lover and Hartmut made sure to return it, along with vocal adoration. They had fights though not serious, mostly from misunderstandings or sometimes they would have fights over a moot point not realizing they were agreeing.

Most of the fights were non serious and in most cases Hartmut would give in just to avoid the hassle of the fight, even if he felt like he was being weak minded. Though it seemed most of the time he was wrong, usually that had to do with how things were done back in Austria and it didn’t translate to how things were done in America. With the journal articles and stuff.

His father had been sent a legal letter of stop cease and desist with the contact, harassments, and threats to his person. With that taken care of he was more confident. He eventually told Alex that his father was one of those extreme homophobes, and was trying to get him to come back home, merry him off and have have a make children. Fairly unpleasant to Hartmut and anyone who enjoyed being a free adult.

Alex published another paper, Hartmut had his name on it, but he only collaborated a small bit to the whole thing. Dr. vogt even funded the study, and it had some good reviews in the journal he submitted it to, there was some grant money involved. The paper wasn’t break though anything but it drew enough attention for being what it was a though and expansive study on laughter. 

Which was news to Hartmut as it seemed both Alex and his mentor had pulled the proverbial wool over his eyes on that one. By the time of the publication and accolades the study received he had no idea that he’d been both a contributor in the study as well as one of the subjects of the study. So when he finally decided to read the study a few years later he found he couldn’t help but chortle at himself. This was obviously the charmed life, and he was glad to have found it.

End


End file.
